Campaign Story

Ever since I was a little girl, I carried one dream in my heart—to fall deeply in love and to become a mom. I imagined tiny hands wrapped around my fingers, bedtime stories whispered in the dark, scraped knees kissed better, and a home filled with laughter, traditions, and the beautiful, messy chaos of family life.

I did find love. The kind of love you pray for. But the path to motherhood has been far more complicated—and far more painful—than I ever imagined.

For the past six years, loss has marked the rhythm of my life. Each year seemed to bring a new goodbye. I lost my dad. My grandfather. My uncle. My younger cousin. Even my sweet dog. Just as I would begin to steady myself, another wave would come. Grief became something I learned to live beside, something I carried quietly while still trying to move forward.

Over time, I did the hard work of healing. I learned how to let joy exist alongside sorrow. I found ways to laugh again without guilt. I began to believe that maybe, after so many years of heartbreak, life might finally soften.

And then at 32, I received the news that added another layer to those six years of loss: I cannot have children without IVF and the help of a donor egg.

The diagnosis felt like yet another goodbye—this time to the version of motherhood I had always imagined. It was the loss of something I hadn’t even held yet, but had loved my entire life. The loss of motherhood as I thought it would be.

Still, we refused to give up.

We sought a second opinion, holding tightly to hope. That hope led us to try IVF using the few eggs I had left. We poured everything into that attempt—emotionally, physically, financially. When it failed, the grief was quiet but profound. And our doctor gently confirmed what we had begun to fear: our only path to becoming parents is IVF with a donor egg.

The emotional weight of this journey has been layered—six years of learning how to say goodbye, while still daring to hope for a hello. The financial burden has only added to that weight. We’ve already taken out a loan to pursue IVF, and without insurance coverage, the cost of donor egg IVF feels impossible to overcome on our own.

I’m a bone marrow transplant nurse, walking with patients through some of the hardest chapters of their lives. My husband is a buyer for a dealership, steady and loving through every high and low. We work hard. We love deeply. But this dream is bigger than what we can carry alone.

And yet—we still believe.

We believe that love—not DNA—makes a family.
We believe that even after years of loss, life can still surprise us with something beautiful.
We believe that our story is not finished yet.

With your support—whether through a donation or simply by sharing our story—you help us take one step closer to the family we have dreamed of for so long.

Thank you for holding hope with us.